


not shy of a spark

by walkthem00n



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Anorexia, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, basically this is a lot of fluff, niall is a law professor oops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3183761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkthem00n/pseuds/walkthem00n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>uni au where harry hates himself and meets louis in a law class. louis thinks he can love harry enough for both of them. zayn is harry's flatmate, liam resembles a puppy, and niall may or may not be a law professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> hey so i'm pretty new to the fandom but i decided to write a fic even though i haven't written in forever (if this sucks that's why)
> 
> trigger warning for eating disorders and self-harm
> 
> if you need help please get it or if you can't then at least come talk to me (certuries.tumblr.com) and remember that i love you no matter what
> 
> title from 505 by the arctic monkeys!

 

Four Starburst. That's what Harry has eaten today.

Honestly, he didn't want to eat a single one of them, but he knows how Zayn gets when he doesn't eat. He'll be all caring and concerned, and as much as Harry loves Zayn and appreciates how great of a friend he is, he doesn't want to deal with that. So when Zayn tells him to eat, he eats. It's fine. He's fine. Everything is  _fine_.

That's what he tells himself, anyway.   
  
***

When Harry wakes up, he sort of really wishes he hadn't. A, because classes, and B, because Louis. Louis is the boy in his Constitutional Law II class who always says hi to him. Then he tries to stammer out some sort of response, and always ends up embarrassing himself because Louis has blue eyes and soft-looking brown hair that Harry wants to run his hands through, and Harry is just. Harry. Fat, stupid, annoyingly tall, pathetic Harry. He doesn't want to talk to Louis because what if he notices how fat Harry is? Then even if he did want to talk to Harry in the first place, which he probably didn't, Harry's probably just a charity case, he would notice how closely Harry resembles a whale and immediately stop talking to him.  
Then Louis would probably tell all his friends, all three million of them, about how  _fat_  Harry is, and then  _they_  wouldn't want to talk to Harry either, not that they did in the first place, since they probably already know how pathetic Harry is, and then the entire university would probably just move off campus so they wouldn't even have to look at Harry, which is a good idea since Harry doesn't like people looking at him in the first place -

Anyway. He doesn't want to get out of bed. But he does, since his class starts in fifteen minutes, and he picks out ripped black skinny jeans and a t-shirt to wear. He goes to the kitchen, where Zayn is of course already cooking breakfast. 

"Want some eggs?" Zayn asks. He sounds normal, but Harry can see the worry in his eyes. "I made too many again."

Harry does  _not_  want some eggs. "No thanks. I'll get something to eat after class." (He won't.)

"Alright, sounds good." Zayn turns back to his frying pan. Harry goes to class.

***

He comes in and sits down in his usual seat. The professor's name is Professor Horan, and he's blond, young, and kind of hot. He checks his watch, walks to the front of the lecture hall and begins to talk. Harry drifts off and daydreams about fudge brownies.

Louis taps his shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

"Huh?" Harry shakes his head to try and dislodge his reverie. This is maybe the only time he's managed to speak actual English around Louis.

"I said are you okay?" Louis has such blue eyes. Harry wants to drown in them. "You seemed kinda off."

His stomach growls. He hopes Louis can't hear it. "Yeah. Uh, I'm fine." Why does Harry have to act so  _stupid_  around boys he likes? His hips itch. The cuts are probably healing. He runs a hand through his hair.

"I like your shirt," the other boy says. Harry isn't even sure what shirt he's wearing. He looks down at it, and it's a 1975 shirt.

"You like the 1975?" Harry asks hopefully. Zayn listens to insanely obscure indie, so Harry can't really talk about music with him. 

"Yeah, I love them." 

"So do I!" Harry grins. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the professor lecturing. His stomach growls again, much louder than before. Harry tries to remember when he last ate.  _Oh yeah_ \- it was the Starburst around nine yesterday morning. It's 11:30 today. 

Louis notices this time. "Are you hungry?"

Harry is not hungry. Harry is aggressively unhungry. "No," he insists.

"Sounds like you are. Want to get coffee after class so we can discuss how hot Matty Healy is?" Louis asks, pulling his blue sweater down over his hands, which is just fucking adorable.

Harry can't breathe. A boy just asked him out. A  _cute_ boy just asked him out. Even better,  _Louis_ just asked him out.

Then he remembers why getting coffee is bad. Coffee means  _calories_ means  _snack to go with it_  means  _more calories_ means  _eating_ means  _fat_. "Yeah, sure," he says breathlessly.

Louis just smiles back at him with those crinkly eyes. This boy is absolutely, positively going to kill him. But they've still got an hour left in class.

***

They go to Starbucks. Harry gets black coffee (1). Louis gets a pumpkin spice latte (380) and a chocolate chip scone (230). Harry doesn't know how he does it.

Louis chooses a booth for them to sit in. Harry slides in and squishes himself in the corner, trying to be as small as possible. Louis slides in next to him and talks about his classes, music he likes, how his family is doing back in Doncaster, how much he misses home, how he thinks he might switch from law and major in drama, and how "crazily hot" Matty Healy is. Harry is content to just listen and smile at the right times.

"So what about you?" the other boy asks after a while. 

"What about me?" he responds, sipping his coffee.

"Would you willingly marry Dylan O'Brien? Because I know I would."

Harry laughs at that. His stomach grumbles again, and he clenches his muscles and sucks in to try to make it shut up. "For sure. A hundred percent."

"So, are you gay then?" comes out of nowhere.

Harry doesn't know how to answer. "Um." Louis waits patiently. "No, I'm pansexual."

"What's that mean?" Louis asks, sounding genuinely curious. He takes a bite out of his scone.

"Uh, well basically it means I'm attracted to all genders," he rushes. "Like, I'm attracted to the person, not their gender."

"Oh, that makes sense." Crinkly eyes again. Harry forgets how to breathe again.

"How about you?" Harry wonders.

"I'm just gay." Louis looks like he doesn't think Harry's response will be a positive one.

"Cool. Great. Well, I mean, not  _great_ , I don't think your sexuality is like something I should necessarily describe with that adjective, oops, oh god, I didn't mean -"

"Harry," Louis interrupts.

"Yeah?" He pauses for breath.

"I get it."

"Oh. Okay." Harry breathes out a sigh of relief and runs his hand through his messy curls again.

"It's cute when you do that." Louis crinkles. Harry blushes harder than he maybe ever has in his life.

"'M not cute," Harry insists. "Justfat," he mumbles under his breath.

"Huh? What'd you say?" Louis asks, and takes a long drink from his latte.

"Um, I said I'm not cute. Rugged and manly, y'know? I'm like a rock." He goes for a smile that probably comes out more like a grimace.

"No, after that."

"Uh. Nothing?" Harry hopes he didn't hear. He doesn't want this boy to find out how fucked up Harry is on their first date. Is it a date? He fervently hopes so.

Thankfully, Louis leaves it alone. "Okay, fine. Then I'm not cute either. We're both manly, rugged rocks."  _We._ Harry likes the way  _we_ sounds.

"Reckon you're more like a small and soft rock. With really pretty eyes." Harry can't believe something that stupid just came out of his mouth.

Louis shrugs, and Harry sees  _collarbones._ Harry looks down, and he sees  _fat._ He sighs. Then he shivers, rubbing his arms. Since he started his diet, he's always cold for some reason.

"Well, eyes or not, I've got a class in twenty. This was really fun. See you in class next week?" The other boy sounds hopeful.

"Yeah! I mean, yeah. Um, see you in class." Harry kicks himself mentally. He starts scratching at his hip with a sharp fingernail. _Why is he so stupid?_ His legs start moving.

"Hey -" Louis catches up and puts a warm hand on his shoulder. It feels good, but all Harry wants to do is shove him off because he can probably feel how  _fat_ Harry is through his shirt. He moves his hand to Harry's hand, the one that's scratching. "Please don't do that. D'you want my number? You know, so I can text you pictures of shirtless Dylan O'Brien?"

Somehow Harry manages to form words. "Yes! Yes, I do want your number. A lot." He pulls out his phone and watches Louis put his number in. Louis' name in Harry's contacts is now Louis blue heart emoji green heart emoji smiley face emoji frog emoji. Louis texts himself from Harry's phone. 

"Alright, I'll see you next week." Louis crinkles  _again_ , gives Harry his phone back, and leaves the coffee shop. The door slams. 

***

"Hey! Where've you been all day?" Zayn asks brightly once Harry gets home. Liam is here as usual - he's sitting on the couch texting. Harry doesn't know much about Liam except that Zayn likes him a  _lot_ and refuses to ask him out, and that he works out a lot. Harry should work out more. 

"Oh, I was getting coffee with Louis." Harry starts walking towards his room. His hips are itching again. He wants to -

 _"YOU WERE GETTING COFFEE? WITH LOUIS?"_  Zayn gets up off the couch and sprints at superhuman speed towards Harry. He picks him up and swings him around. "THAT'S SO GREAT!"Harry really, really wants to be put down. He's sure Zayn will notice how heavy he is.  
Zayn is only this excited because Harry hasn't gone out of his own volition in weeks. It's because he knows no one would want to go anywhere with someone so fat anyway, but does Zayn know that? Nope.

"Um, yeah? Lower the volume, please."

"Louis is my roommate," calls Liam from the living room of the tiny flat. 

"He is?" Harry did not know that. Whatever. He continues walking towards his room.

Zayn bounces back to sit on the couch and starts cuddling with Liam. Harry wishes he could cuddle with Louis.

***

Harry decides he doesn't deserve Louis. He's got thirteen new cuts on his barely visible hipbones to remind himself.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry falls over, louis helps him up. they go back to harry's and watch movies together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! so i think i'll end up updating somewhere around once every week. i can't give you a specific day since my school schedule is so erratic, but i'm hoping for once a week :~) 
> 
> i basically didn't edit this at all (plus ao3 messed up and deleted the last couple paragraphs so i had to rewrite them) but i hope you like it!

  
Harry skips law class next week. He doesn't feel up to facing Louis again.

He gets close to twenty texts from the other boy asking what he did wrong, but he doesn't reply. Instead he just stays in his and Zayn's flat and listens to music all day, and blows off his job at the bakery. Every time Zayn comes home and asks if he's eaten, he pretends he has. He pretends he's fine. He pretends he doesn't have thirty or forty new slashes along his hips and disgusting thighs.

The week after that, Harry knows he can't ignore Louis any longer. Zayn and Liam are always on the couch or in Zayn's tiny bedroom cuddling or just talking, and Liam sometimes asks if Harry has talked to Louis recently. Harry always says no, and the two of them always look worried.   
Harry likes to think he isn't _completely_ useless. He does still go to his other classes. He just hasn't been feeling up to seeing Louis after his realization last week.

The thing is, Louis is basically perfect. He's adorable, and gorgeous, and hot, and nice, and skinny. Harry is the opposite of all those things. He has no social skills, he's ugly, he's horribly fat, and he isn't that nice.

Harry thinks he'll try. If Louis ends up finally realizing how much better he could do, well, that's okay. At least Harry will be prepared.

***

"Hey!" Louis exclaims, sitting down next to Harry, who gives a weak smile. He's kind of dizzy. Maybe he should have eaten more than three almonds (18) this morning, but oh well. He sticks two pieces of gum in his mouth and ignores his grumbling stomach.

"I tried to call you, and I texted you, but you wouldn't respond?" Louis says questioningly. He scrunches up his eyebrows, and it's kind of incredibly adorable.

"Yeah. I'm really, really sorry, I just had sort of a bad week, and I, um, have basically no social skills so I forgot how the whole concept of 'texting back' works, and yeah. Sorry." Harry runs a hand through his messy hair and tries to remember how to breathe. He's really cold. "Is it really cold in here, or is it just me?"

"Oh, it's fine. Sorry your week was bad. Are you okay now? And no, it's actually really warm in here. It always is - the air conditioning is broken, remember?" Louis gives Harry a strange look.

"Oops. Forgot about that." Harry avoids the question. The professor goes on and on about law. Fucking law. Why did he major in law again? He thinks if he wasn't sitting down he might fall over.

 

As it happens, he does fall over. An hour and a half later, Professor Horan finally shuts up. Everyone rushes to get up and get out of the lecture hall as fast as possible. Harry's still dizzy, and Louis is standing there with a patient smile, so he tries to get up fast. Oops. _Bad_ idea. His legs seem to have suddenly disappeared. How is he supposed to stand up if he has no legs? Oh wait - turns out he does have legs after all, because they just collapsed underneath him. Would you look at that, he's on the floor. And he's still cold. Why is it so _cold_?  
"Harry!" Louis rushes over to him. "What happened? Are you okay?" The professor looks up at them, shrugs, and leaves. They're alone in the lecture hall with one girl who's furiously typing away on her laptop. She doesn't look up.

Harry tries to get up, but his legs wobble again and he falls. _Dammit._ Why won't his body just cooperate?

Louis grabs his hand, and it's really warm. "Wow. You really are cold. C'mon." He pulls Harry up. Harry gets dizzy yet again, but that's okay because Louis is holding his hand. A swarm of butterflies ravage his stomach. _Wow, how stupid did that sound?_

They leave the lecture hall. Miraculously, Harry's dizziness finally passes.

As they're walking down the hall, Louis asks, "So what happened? What was that, why'd you fall?"

"Um, I just got kinda shaky and dizzy all of a sudden and my legs, like, disappeared. Doesn't that ever happen to you?"

"No..." He looks worried. Harry doesn't want Louis to look worried. He wants Louis to be happy all the time. "Harry, I don't think that's supposed to happen. Maybe you should get that checked out."

"Nah, it's fine, I know why it happened anyway," Harry breathes out in a rush. They're almost at the end of the hallway. Harry's car is outside and the flat is a five-minute drive. He kind of really really wants Louis to come over.

"And why was that?"

"Um." He does _not_ want to tell Louis. "D'you want to come over to my and Zayn's flat?"

"I think it's 'Zayn's and my flat,' but yeah, sure. If you tell me why you fell down."

Uh-oh. Harry looks at Louis. His eyes are a little reproachful and a lot worried. He doesn't want to tell him, but at the same time, a little part of him kind of does.

He sighs. "Because - because...." They stop walking. "It was because I was hungry, that's all." He doesn't trust himself to look up from his Converse.

"Oh, do you want to get something to eat before we go to your place?" Louis asks.

"No, I - I'm okay." Harry is not okay. Harry is not okay. "It's fine."

The other boy shrugs, and Harry sees  _collarbones_ again. "Alright. Let's go then."  
They go.

***

"Harry! Hey," Zayn says as soon as they walk in the door. _Harry! Hey_ is a little out of breath from the three flights of stairs they had to climb to get to the flat (he doesn't do well with exercise, as ironic as it is), but he deals with it.

"Hey, Zayn." Harry tries to breathe. The stupid dizziness is back. Maybe if he were skinnier he wouldn't be so dizzy? Yeah, that must be it. The fatness is getting to his sense of balance. Is that possible? He has to remember to Google it later.

"Louis! Hi!" Zayn exclaims enthusiastically.

"Hey," Louis smiles (and crinkles) back at him. "I like your flat," he says, looking around.

"Sorry - it's a huge mess right now," Harry tells him. "We really need to clean, but can't seem to muster up the energy."

"Yeah, that's how my dorm gets," replies Louis. Zayn makes a sympathetic face.

"THAT'S HOW OUR DORM GETS BECAUSE OF YOU!" yells Liam from the couch in the living room, which is on the other end of the flat.

"HI, LIAM, HOW ARE YOU?" Louis yells back just as loudly.

"I WOULD BE BETTER IF YOU WOULD HELP ME CLEAN OUR FUCKING DORM ROOM," yells Liam.

Harry laughs. He realizes it's the first time he's laughed around Louis. The blue-eyed boy gives him a huge grin. Annoyingly enough, his stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead.

"Oh, crap! Oh god, I'm sorry, I forgot you were hungry," rambles Louis. "C'mon, where's your kitchen? I'll make you something to eat."

Nope. No. This is bad. This is very bad. Now Harry has to pretend to eat. "Um, uh, no. It's fine. I'll eat later."

"No, let's eat now! I'm hungry, you're hungry, and you've got a kitchen somewhere around here, I'm sure." Louis smiles again blindingly. Harry would like to look at Louis' smile forever, please and thanks. Even though he doesn't want to, Harry leads the two of them to the kitchen.

(Zayn walks away, probably to go cuddle with Liam some more. One of them has got to ask the other out soon. Harry can't stand the sexual tension for much longer.) His heart starts sort of fluttering. It's beating so fast he thinks it might force itself out of his chest. This happens a lot - he knows how it feels when he's managed not to eat for a few days. There's the crazy fast heart rate, the dizziness, the wobbling, the pain in his stomach. Harry hates to admit it, but he kind of likes those feelings. It means maybe he's getting somewhere. It means maybe soon he won't be so goddamn  _fat._

"So what should we eat?" Louis asks.

"Um. I don't know." How about nothing? Can he eat nothing? Harry shivers. "It's really cold in here."

"I think you're just cold all the time," the other boy laughs. "It's pretty warm." Harry shrugs noncommittally and runs a freezing hand through his hair. His cuts itch, reminding him again why they're there. He doesn't deserve Louis. (He doesn't deserve to hear his laugh - which Harry thinks is the literal sound of happiness - he doesn't deserve to see his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and he definitely doesn't deserve Louis talking to him.)

"D'you guys have cereal?" Louis opens a cabinet, sees an array of chips, and closes it again.

"Yeah. 'Course we do, we're not total barbarians," he laughs nervously, messing up his hair again. He doesn't want to eat cereal, but he shows Louis where it is anyway, and takes out two bowls and the milk.

Zayn calls from the living room, "POUR ME SOME!" Harry sighs and grabs another bowl. Louis takes out some sugary cereal that probably has hundreds of calories and pours way too much into each bowl.   
"Milk?" he asks.

"Um, n-no thanks," replies Harry. His voice shakes. Why is he so fucking weak? The shorter boy looks at him kind of strangely, but pours too much milk in the other two bowls. He grabs his and Zayn's bowl, leaving Harry to grab his own, which he unwillingly does. Louis walks away, presumably to give Zayn his cereal. Harry dumps half his bowl in the trash while he's gone, and sits down at the table like nothing is wrong.

Louis comes back in a minute and sits down next to him. Harry notices his own hands shaking and dismisses it. Lately, food makes him insanely nervous. Just thinking about it has the capacity to make him nauseous. It's really weird, but then again, so is he. Louis starts eating his cereal. Time for Harry to pretend eating doesn't make him want to throw up. Whatever - he can be a good actor.

Five minutes later, the other boy is half done and he's barely eaten two bites. With good reason, though, since even those two bites felt like active steps away from finally being _skinny_.  
"Harry, you alright?" he asks. "You've barely eaten anything."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine! Just fine. Um, I just realized I'm actually not that hungry," he gets out in a rush. His hands are still shaking. Louis looks down and notices it.

"Are you sure? You're shaking." Louis puts his warm, soft hand on Harry's cold, dry one. It feels better than anything Harry has ever felt in his life, he thinks.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm alright." Irritatingly enough, he just starts shaking harder.

"Oh, babe. C'mere." Louis gently picks Harry up from his chair - "'M too heavy," he protests, but Louis doesn't listen - and takes him to the couch. Liam and Zayn have disappeared. Harry wonders where they went. The Arctic Monkeys are playing somewhere in the flat. "Call off the search for your soul, or put it on hold again," croons Alex Turner faintly. Why can't he stop shaking?  
Harry curls up in a ball on the couch and tries to tense his muscles to stop the shaking. Louis curls around him, which for some reason just makes him shake more. When the other boy tries to wrap his arms around Harry's stomach, Harry freezes up. No no no no _no_. Louis is gonna feel how _fat_ Harry is, he's gonna realize that he's cuddling with an _obese_ person, and what's more, when he notices how _disgusting_ Harry is he's probably going to leave, which just sucks because Louis makes him feel warm and almost something close to _happy_ , and -   
And it's okay. Louis notices Harry's muscles locking up and lets go. "It's okay," he whispers. "I'm not gonna do anything you don't want me to. Will you tell me what's wrong?" And since Harry is an absolute idiot, that makes him start crying.

Louis sighs a little. "It's okay. I've got you." He curls around Harry tighter. It feels nothing short of perfect.  
"What's wrong, babe?" Harry hiccups and starts apologizing.

"Sorry, oh my god, I'm so sorry I'm s-so dumb I've just g-gone and started cr-crying on you haven't I? Oh, f-fuck, now I've gone and g-got tears all over your j-jumper. I'm such an idiot." He tries to breathe and fails miserably.

"No, no, it's fine! I don't mind. Don't apologize. Just tell me what's wrong." Louis smiles down at him. Harry thinks he's never seen anything prettier.

"I-I," he sobs. Why is he so _stupid_?

"Okay, that's okay. I've got you. We can just stay here till you calm down, yeah?"

And because everyone in his life has to have fucking _impeccable_ timing, Zayn and Liam come out of nowhere. Zayn's shirtless for some reason (Harry probably only needs one guess why), and his _ribs_ and his _collarbones_ and his _hipbones_ , and just.

"Harry, what's wrong?" asks Zayn. Harry hates himself. Like, he always does, but more right now because he can't stop crying and because Zayn is so _skinny_ and Harry closely resembles a humpback whale.

"I dunno. We were eating cereal and then he just started shaking. I asked him what was wrong and he started crying," says Louis worriedly.

"Oh. I think I might know what happened." Zayn leans down and looks at Harry. He sort of feels like a zoo exhibit. "Harry, what've you eaten today?"

Too much. Harry finally forces himself to stop crying, but the hiccups are stubborn. "Um, I h-had a, uh, muffin before class, and I just had a whole bowl of cereal with L-louis." Lie and partial lie, obviously. Muffins are almost 400 calories, which is almost 400 too many. He uncurls himself and sits back down on the couch next to Louis, which means he's cold again. Damn.  
"You sure, mate?" Zayn asks. Liam sits down next to Louis and crosses his legs, looking like a concerned puppy. Zayn sits on his lap, which. Well. Harry's not surprised.

"Y-yes, I'm sure," Harry says with a touch of venom. He feels bad after it's out of his mouth. "Sorry. Yeah, I'm sure."

"Alright then. Um, I guess Liam and I are gonna go back to my room..." Zayn trails off. Liam picks him up bridal-style and transports the two of them away, Zayn giggling like mad the whole time.

"I'm really sorry," Harry huffs out. "I don't know what happened, I just. Just. I don't know. I'm sorry. You can go if you want, I won't blame you." He doesn't let himself look at Louis.

"No! No." Louis gently grasps Harry's chin. His fingers are warm. "It's okay. I'm staying right here with you, alright? We can just watch movies tonight if you want. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to." He smiles, and it's like an infectious disease, so Harry finds himself smiling back.

"Yeah. Movies sound good."

(They watch  _Grease_ and cuddle the whole time. Louis doesn't touch Harry's stomach. It's so perfect that Harry can almost forget the pain in his stomach and how badly the cuts on his hips itch. Almost.)


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they go clubbing & harry has to walk home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! just so you know next week is really busy for me so i might not get an update out till saturday or sunday :( sorry for the wait on this one but last week was also pretty busy ugh  
> major trigger warning in this for self-harm so be warned :~)))

The next week, Zayn and Liam force Harry to go out with them. He knows it'll just be a night of the two of them dancing and himself feeling like a third wheel. He'll probably just end up texting Louis instead of dancing or drinking, which he's okay with since alcohol is empty calories anyway and besides, he prefers puking when it's self-induced. Not that he likes puking in any case, but -

"You ready?" Zayn calls from across the flat. Harry forces himself to look in the full-length mirror on his closet door. If he ignores the horrendous amounts of fat on his body, he thinks his outfit of black, ripped skinny jeans and a sheer white button down looks at least decent. He hopes no one will get close enough to notice the red lines on his stomach that are just barely visible through his shirt.

"Just about," Harry calls back. He fluffs up his hair one more time, sticks his phone in his back pocket, and tries to ignore his stomach growling. Zayn comes into the room, Liam in tow. The three of them start walking down the stairs, and Harry tries to ignore how badly his joints ache. He's not  _eighty._ He can manage to go down three flights of stairs without passing out. It's fine. He's fine.

They make it to the club. It's so loud, Harry can't hear himself think. Which is a cliche, but it's true. He doesn't want to drink because again, empty calories. He doesn't want to dance because he's afraid he'd fall over. That, or make a giant idiot of himself. So his only option is to just sit down at the bar. He asks for some ice water. Why'd he agree to this again?

Harry's phone buzzes, and  _thank god,_ it's Louis. Specifically, it's a blurry, duck-faced selfie of Louis with a text following it that says "apparently they're not just for teenage girls" with a winky face emoji. Harry's lips start curving up against his will. He takes a peace-sign, duck-face selfie and sends it back with no caption. This is a thing now, apparently. Louis sends Harry random selfies and texts, and he tries to reciprocate, regardless of how ugly he knows pictures of himself always are, selfies or not. It's nice because every time he gets a text from the older boy, it makes him forget how shitty he feels about himself. Louis just makes him feel, like,  _nice_. 

Anyway. He shakes off the sappiness and looks around. Liam and Zayn are dancing in a not-even-close-to-PG-rated way in a corner, which Harry averts his eyes from immediately because  _gross,_ Zayn's his best mate. And then. Then he sees it. _  
_

 _Louis_ is here. Louis is here, and he's grinding against some guy in the opposite corner. Louis is here, looking fucking  _edible_ in skinny jeans and a t-shirt that shows off his delicate collarbones, and he's grinding against some guy in the opposite corner. Harry ducks his head down and looks at his empty water glass. His heart starts fluttering again. It's not like Louis is _his_ or anything. Obviously they're just friends. Obviously Louis can't be expected to - to - he doesn't even know what. Harry's eyes start watering a little and he blinks fast to try to get rid of the feeling. (It doesn't work.) 

Louis looks up. Harry feels like he may faint again, which, no. That can't happen, because something worse happens. Louis looks up and  _sees Harry._ He sees Harry sitting alone at the bar with an empty glass of water and no friends. Harry can't do this, he knows he won't be able to talk to Louis coherently when Louis has  _friends_ and knows how to dance with _boys_ and has  _collarbones_ that remind him of a bird taking flight, and Harry has none of those things. 

Louis grins at him from across the room, looking surprised, and he rushes off to the bathroom. It's dirty and smells faintly of come, but he doesn't care right now. Harry sits on a probably  _very_ unsanitary toilet in one of the graffitied stalls and puts his head in his hands. He can't do this. So he pops off his phone case and grabs the blade from a pencil sharpener that he keeps in there, and does the only thing he knows how to do. He cuts. He shoves his jeans down, hikes up his shirt awkwardly, and oh  _look at that,_ there are four or five new slashes across each thigh and more than that on his stomach. The pain feels so good. It's something he can focus on instead of worrying about Louis. A couple of the stomach ones are so deep he can see the white tissue underneath. He likes those ones because they usually don't bleed for a few seconds, and he can just look at it and -

The bathroom door bangs open. "Harry? You in here?" a familiar voice calls.  _Shit, shit, shit._ Harry holds his breath and tries to quietly grab some toilet paper. He puts pressure on the bleeding ones and ignores the two that aren't. 

"Um, yeah," he says, voice shaky. "Just - taking a piss."

"Alright. Well, come hang with me whenever you're done. I'll wait for you at the bar." The door bangs shut after a couple seconds. Harry lets out a huge breath and focuses on the task at hand. He decides to ignore the bleeding because he doesn't really care enough to wait for it to stop. So he gently hitches his jeans back up, wincing a little when they rub over the fresh slashes, and buttons his shirt back up. He puts the blade back in his phone case, pops it back on, and leaves the bathroom a little calmer. 

True to his word, Louis is sitting at the bar chatting idly with the tall man next to him and checking his phone every few seconds. Zayn and Liam are nowhere to be found. Harry breathes deep and goes to sit down on the other side.

"Hey!" Louis crinkles. 

"Hi." He tries to smile, but it comes out more like a sort of grimace. 

"What's new? Is Ziam finally real? Cause I saw them, uh,  _dancing_ and I was wondering."

"Yeah, they finally got together. After months of sexual tension and Zayn being nervous whenever he even looked at Liam, which I had to survive." Harry can't look at Louis, not when he knows the cuts are probably bleeding through his thin shirt. Not when he knows he hasn't had anything to eat except green tea and water in probably two days.  _  
_

"Finally!" Louis throws up his hands. "I've been waiting _forever!_ "

"You and me both." He manages something like a grin.

"Hey, you okay? You look kind of. I dunno. Nervous." The older boy gently grabs Harry's chin and forces him to make eye contact. It feels _amazing_ , but it only lasts a second before Harry's dropping his eyes back down to the floor and turning his head away. 

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." He doesn't dare to look down at his shirt, but he does, and Louis notices. 

"What's that?" he asks, squinting a little in the almost-darkness of the club.

"Um. Nothing." Harry crosses his arms to cover the faint red stains. 

"It looks like -" Louis leans closer. Harry leans back. "It kind of looks like blood. Is that blood? What the hell happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing happened, it's fine." He's shaking again.  _Why_ does this always happen around Louis?

"Alright, if you say so. Want to dance?"

"That's okay. Maybe later." Harry thinks, again, that if he tries to dance he'll fall over. Or pass out. One of those two. 

***

As it happens, they don't end up dancing later. Harry ends up walking home because as far as he knows, Zayn and Liam are _still_ dancing. Louis probably went back to grinding on other guys and it's only a ten-minute walk back to the flat anyway. So he walks home in the mid-September chill, with his shirt sticking uncomfortably to the blood on his stomach and his ears still ringing. He decides that he should never have agreed to go clubbing. 

Louis texts him about sixteen times and calls him once. The texts get progressively more and more incomprehensible, finally ending with "im goigngho me wwith antoher gu y i ohp e yuo got hoem saf e xz". Harry is pretty sure the 'xz' was supposed to be an 'xx,' but then again, he supposes it could have been a half-assed attempt at sending him the last few letters of the alphabet. 

Zayn doesn't get home till about three in the morning, at which point he wakes Harry up by kicking off his shoes (which are clunky boots, and are therefore _really_ fucking loud). Harry just rolls over and goes back to dreaming about blue eyes and red-stained white. 


End file.
